Musings
by GoodByexx
Summary: Edwards thought's at the beginning of Twilight. Not very long, and experience has taught me to write better.


**Disclaimer - Sadly I own nothing.**

Musings 

Pure monotony, the same thing is thought day in day out, rarely any original thoughts, how can today's youth be so apathetic. Time, it has changed everything, not me. For I am unnatural and time doesn't register me, according to time, I died rightfully many years ago. Thoughts wash by me.

_Wow, I wonder if the new girl will sit with me……._

_I bet she thinks they're looking at her, yeah right! I am…._

_I can walk her to her classes, then she'll be grateful and want to….._

As that imbecile Mike Newton decided to think some very explicit thoughts - none of which should ever be thought about a lady - I decided to tune out, or attempt to, the "voices" don't really go away, just had the volume turned down. After seeing the human's face in thousands of times in various minds, I came to the conclusion that she didn't interest me. Much. Though, perhaps, it was more the obsession that most of the school population had towards her that made me choose to see what kind of character she was.

I don't feel that stepping into the average teenagers mind is a breech of privacy as it all tends to be very repetitive and selfish. Hormones, apparently. The constant mood swings, the intellectual shortage, the fantasy's, the self worship. In some cases there is one child - for that is what they are, in comparison to my age - that restore the hope that maybe teenagers don't get worse with every passing decade, Angela, and then a vile individual, in this instance Jessica, and destroys all hope with her vile, vain thoughts. I cannot deny that my sister is not vain, but she has more reason to be, she is truly beautiful, more so in death, she is perfection in order to attract her prey, Jessica Stanley however, is not so much. In an attempt to be kind, I will say there are certainly more attractive people in her midst. But I digress.

Actually, when I study "new girls" features, she appears to be rather pretty, I can begin to understand why the males wish to, shall we say "mate"? With her. Though I suspect the day I fully identify with them will be the day I die - highly unlikely, to say the least. Her face was attractive though often hidden, I wished to turn and examine her with my own eyes, a thought which surprised me. So, I turned, and there, not fully depicted in their glory, were the deepest pair of brown eyes I am sure I will ever behold. The large orbs entranced me, and it was during my daze that I realised. I could not read her thoughts.

No. I am simply not concentrating enough. I pleaded with my own mind to help me overcome this problem, for I was, again surprisingly, anxious to read her thoughts, to see how she saw me, if she liked me, if she even noticed me. The lat thought irrational, yet came unbidden, of course she noticed me we stared into each others eyes. Besides everybody notices the Cullen's, it was then I realised that her venomous neighbour was telling her all about us, again I turned and saw those magnificent eyes once again focused on my own. I also saw the red blush that stained her porcelain cheeks and spread throughout her divine face. Divine? No, she cannot be attractive, not to me, not when I am regularly faced with one of the most superficial people, that would challenge any deity for their beauty. How could a _human_ be attractive when Rosalie sits opposite me. I console myself with the fact that I know Rosalie. As much as I hate to admit it, I fear I may be falling into the trap of the other males in the room, and merely lust the new face. That was the lesser of two evils. Or perhaps not, perhaps I do care for her, but only because she is so fragile, she appears breakable, like a figurine. How would _I_ protect her? It's laughable, the predator wishing to protect it's prey, the hunted. What use would I be to her? She's probably safer with the adolescents that wish to ambush her at every opportunity. What have I to offer her? I have nothing. What hath a monster to offer an angel? Little did I know my angel was soon to become my personal Devil. No, I fear Lucifer himself could not give the same level of pain, yearning and torture that Bella Swan's scent gives me.


End file.
